


Cupid's Chokehold

by The_Claw



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mentioned Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Mentioned Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Modern AU, Pining, Song: A Thousand Years (Christina Perri), basically sylvain realizes that ingrid is indeed a woman, prom au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29834541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Claw/pseuds/The_Claw
Summary: One shot fluff fic where Ingrid and Sylvain are left with each other as dates to prom.ORSylvain realizes that Ingrid looks damn fine in a dress.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	Cupid's Chokehold

Prom was something Sylvain looked forward to ever since he was a freshman. What was not to like? There were a plethora of beautiful women in fabulous outfits, delicious food, and great music to dance to. 

What Sylvain didn’t plan for, however, was not having a date a week before prom. He had the pick of the crop; but every time he finally would get around to asking his newest proposal, they were already taken! Sylvain couldn’t help but mope. He was doomed to be a social pariah, going _alone_ to prom. Even Felix had a date (Sylvain couldn’t decide who was more flustered after: Felix or Annette)--Sylvain was absolutely beside himself. 

Eventually, Ingrid offered to go as Sylvain’s date. It was mostly out of the urging of her friends to end Sylvain’s incessant moping, but she was also dateless. She made it abundantly clear it was out of platonic pity, before instructing Sylvain that her dress was royal blue. 

At any given moment, Sylvain would’ve been absolutely certain that he and Ingrid were only friends and nothing more. Over the week, Annette and Mercedes were trying different subtle make-up looks and hairstyles on Ingrid. When Sylvain first saw her, his jaw dropped. Were her eyes always such a beautiful shade of green? Her lips were a sumptuous shade of pink, and the only thing Sylvain wanted to do was kiss them. 

His silver tongue was suddenly oxidized, unable to do anything but stutter and stumble through attempted compliments. It was like his mind shut down, with Ingrid being the only thing on his mind. Needless to say, Sylvain avoided Ingrid for the rest of the week in fear of sticking his foot in his mouth.

Now, Sylvain was staring at himself in the mirror, adjusting his blue tie, wondering what kind of dress she was wearing. 

The thought of her dress plagued him at the most inopportune times. The worst, by far, was during his lacrosse game yesterday. He was tearing up the other team, running circles around their defense with Felix and Dimitri, and right before he was able to score:

_What if she wore a strapless dress?_

The next thing Sylvain knew, he was laid flat on the turf, his side searing in pain where he was shouldered by the defenseman. 

“Keep it together, jackass. We barely have a lead” Felix scolded, extending a hand to his fallen comrade. Sylvain took it, squeezing his eyes shut as if to expel the thoughts. The last thing he needed was to get railed by the opposite team _and_ Felix. 

Sylvain would have his answer soon enough. The anticipation was causing his heart to skip a few beats. Never in his life, in his countless dates and encounters, did he feel so… Vulnerable. Sylvain checked his wristwatch, his eyebrows immediately raising at the realization he was late. Well, maybe he was _still_ himself. Climbing into his car, Sylvain quickly did a breath check before scrunching his nose in realization of his actions. He really was losing it.

**INGRID:** It’s 7:30, Sylvain. We need to meet everyone at 8.

**SYLVAIN:** On my way!

**SYLVAIN:** I got you a little something something ;)

The easiest way to smooth over any ruffles with Ingrid? A delicious treat. Ignoring speed limits, Sylvain wheeled his car through town, stopping only to grab food from their favorite barbeque joint. Hopefully that’d win some forgiveness for his tardiness. Sylvain finally screeched out to a halt outside of the Galatea home. His hand instinctively hovered on his steering wheel’s horn to call Ingrid out of the home. Sylvain hesitated. He wanted to see Ingrid from head to toe, not from his cramped front seat of his car. 

He rang the doorbell, taking a step back off the front porch, watching the door for any movement behind the glass. He anxiously shifted his suit jacket and tie.   
  


Figuring they grew up, Sylvain knew everything about Ingrid. Sylvain knew Ingrid would rather have her hair in braids or a ponytail rather than down in luscious, soft curls. Sylvain knew she preferred athletic wear to tight, less forgiving, form fitting fabrics. Ingrid preferred to avoid make-up than wear it. 

Knowing all of this was the exact reason why seeing Ingrid caused Sylvain’s breath to hitch. 

Ingrid’s blonde hair curled softly around her face, descending in golden cascades down her dress. Her make-up was subtle, only eye make-up highlighting her emerald eyes and sculpted brows. The sheen on her lips indicated lip gloss of some kind. Was it flavored? 

Sylvain wanted to find out.

Her strapless royal blue dress hugged her hips, flaring only at her feet in a classic mermaid shape. The dress itself was simple; naked from sparkles or gems, the stain fabric truly accentuated the natural beauty of the wearer. Her heels were silver and simple, though it was clear from her descent down the steps of her porch that they were an unfamiliar territory. Sylvain quickly stepped forward, offering a hand for balance. She took it gently, continuing to step down.

Ingrid was beautiful. 

Sylvain was utterly speechless. 

His shock is only broken when Ingrid began waving her hand in front of his face, wearing a mild expression of annoyance. Even her annoyed expression is stunning. 

“Did you hear me?” Ingrid asked, cocking her head to the side with her brows furrowed in slight concern. 

“Nope.” Sylvain answered honestly, reminding himself to breathe. He opened the passenger side door to his car, giving a slight bow. “Your car waits, m’lady.”

Ingrid laughed, slipping into his car and bending over to ensure her skirts were well within the vehicle. “Tonight’s going to be unbearable if you keep referring to me that way.”

Sylvain offered a goofy smile, before gently shutting the door and returning to his original seat. 

“What I was saying,” Ingrid said, turning to Sylvain after buckling herself in, “Was that you look handsome tonight.”

Sylvain couldn’t help perk a brow at her comment. The two always were honest with one another, but this felt different. It wasn’t just a friendly compliment--clearly being confirmed by the pink dusting Ingrid’s cheeks. Sylvain couldn’t hide his own blush, floundering for words yet again. He turned to start his car and buckle, before offering a classic Sylvain smile back to the blonde. 

“Aw shucks, Ing. Didn’t you say my ego was too big? You’re definitely not helping.” 

Sylvain was met with an elbow to the ribs as he started driving toward the meet-up location at the gardens by the school. 

“But seriously, Ingrid, you look fantastic.” Sylvain said, glancing at Ingrid out of the corner of his eyes. He watched as her expression turned from a soft smile to skepticism. Sylvain cleared his throat. “Genuinely. You’re absolutely stunning.” His grip slightly tightened on the steering wheel, fighting his urge to check her expression.

“Thanks, Sylvain.” Ingrid said earnestly. 

A silence befell the car as they continued their drive to the gardens. A few minutes into the silence, a crinkle of a paper bag caused Sylvain to glance over. 

“Ah--you found my surprise.” Sylvain said, giving a sly grin to the other. 

“This _almost_ makes up for you being late.” Ingrid said, her smile giving away her true sentiments. “I would kill to eat this right now.” Ingrid hugged the bag, sighing sadly as its aroma wafted into the car. 

“You can’t have it until after the dance, though. The likelihood of both of us getting covered in sauce is too high.” Sylvain noted, tapping his temple with one hand. “See? I thought of everything.”

At the very moment, Sylvain pulled into the garden’s parking lot, parking besides a familiar blue SUV. Turning off the ignition, Sylvain turned to Ingrid. “You ready?”

Ingrid gave a lopsided smile, opening her door and undoing her seatbelt. “Only if you are.”

After a few minutes of struggling to get Ingrid’s dress untangled from the seatbelt, the two made their way to the rest of their group. Annette and Felix were already sitting on a bench, Deduce and Mercedes standing underneath the tree, and Marianne and Dimitri leaning on the hood of his blue SUV and talking.

“Hello Sylvain, Ingrid. You both look wonderful.” Dimitri greeted the two, standing up fully. “I think we’re ready to. Everyone ready to set out?” 

The group shifted to start walking, with Annette and Mercedes flocking to Marianne and Ingrid, while Felix and Dedue shifted forward to walk with Sylvain and Dimitri.

Silence quickly descended on the group. “So,” Sylvain started, his hands slipping into pockets. “I think I have a crush on Ingrid.” 

Felix was never one to show emotion, but his eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. Dedue’s did the same. Dimitri looked flat out stunned. 

“Well. I’m glad we had this discussion, guys.” Sylvain said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the stunned silence he created. His mistake, frankly--he chose the wrong group to show any emotional vulnerability. 

Standing still, Sylvain turned, awaiting for Ingrid and the rest of the group to catch up. Once they did, he looped his arm around Ingrid’s, holding her back. 

“Sylvain, what are you doing?” Ingrid said, staggering in her heels. “If we don’t keep walking, we’ll never keep up.”

“How bad do you want to go to this thing? Like, on a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want to go into a hot reception hall with everyone awkwardly dancing to Soulja Boy?” Sylvain asked, his hand rubbing his neck.

“A three? Not a lot, but what else are we supposed to do dressed like this?” Ingrid asked, sticking out her heeled leg as emphasis.

“I have some ideas.” Sylvain noted, tugging Ingrid the opposite direction of the group. “We better step on it though, before _His Highness_ Captain Dimitri realizes we defected.”

The two sprinted (or as close to sprinting as possible with Ingrid in heels) toward Sylvain’s car, laughing breathlessly as they peeled out of the garden’s parking lot. 

Sylvain cranked the radio and rolled the windows down in his car, letting the crisp autumn air spill into the car. As they cruised down the highway, Sylvain caught a glance of Ingrid resting her head on the door, letting the breeze brush over her face, her eyes shut as she hummed to the music on the radio. His hand reached for hers instinctually and without thought. Ingrid didn’t even bat an eye as her hand slipped into Sylvain's, intertwining their fingers. 

A half-hour later, Sylvain’s car rolled to a stop. Ingrid’s eyes fluttered open, her head lifting to take in her surroundings. 

“The lake?” She asked, a small smile in her voice. 

“I figured it was close enough.” Sylvain said, shrugging nonchalantly. “We can also eat our barbeque in peace here, with no judgment on our poor manners.”

The two discarded their shoes in the car, grabbing a beach blanket, stereo, and their barbeque before trudging onto the beach. Sylvain threw a glance over his shoulder to see how his date was fairing. 

The lake-salted winds blew Ingrid’s curls astray, and her dress was hiked up to her knees as she trekked through the sand after Sylvain. Catching Sylvain’s gaze, she gave a pearly grin, her cheeks flush to the cold air. 

“After you, Ing.” Sylvain said, throwing the blanket on the sand, adjusting it to be taut across the ground. If he dragged Ingrid from prom, he was going to be damn sure to make this everything she wanted and more. With a relieved sigh, Ingrid flopped onto the ground, laying back with a relaxed sigh.

"This is much more fun then suffering in a crowded." Ingrid notes, her eyes closed. After a moment of silence, she cracks one eye open, peering upwards to Sylvain.

Sylvain held her emerald gaze with his own, absorbed in her countenance. The way her eyes crinkle at the corner when she smiles, the way her blush spreads to the bridge of her nose, the way she bites her lip and looks away when she gets too shy. Sylvain breaks the trance, bending over to turn on the stereo. He scrolls through his phone before settling on an adequate slow dance song.

“I can't drag you away from prom without at least giving you a proper slow dance.” Sylvain states gallantly, walking around to her side and offering a hand. 

“What is this song?” Ingrid asked, taking Sylvain’s hand and rising to her feet. “It sounds familiar.”

“Not important.” Sylvain said, pulling the blonde a few steps from the blanket. “ _This,”_ Sylvain says, pulling Ingrid into his chest, slowly starting to sway to the music. “Is important.”

_Darling, don’t be afraid,_

_I have loved you for a thousand years_

_I’ll love you for a thousand more_

Ingrid’s hands slip from his grasp, and Sylvain momentarily panics that he’s moving too quickly, being too bold--before her hands reach around his neck. Sylvain suppressed sighing in relief, opting instead to slip his hands around her waist, bringing her closer in their slow dance.

_All along I believed I would found you,_

_Time has brought your heart to me,_

_I have loved you,_

_For a thousand years._

_I’ll love you for a thousand more._

Ingrid continued to sway with Sylvain, tilting her head to gaze at Sylvain before resting her head on his chest. If Sylvain could stop time and live in this moment forever, he would.

_One step closer._

Ingrid tilted her head up, still against his chest, eagerly gazing at Sylvain. Her hands slipped into his hair as her head rose from his chest, putting light pressure on the taller man to lean down. Sylvain’s heart started racing.

_One step closer._

The pair’s swaying slowed as Sylvain’s hands rose from Ingrid’s hips to cup her face. He was careful, holding her as if she was a piece of porcelain about to break. Sylvain dipped lower to match Ingrid's height, hesitating inches from Ingrid’s face, peering into pools of green.

Ingrid’s brows furrowed in frustration, her impatience leaking into her voice. “What are you doing, Sylvain?” 

“I--” Sylvain started, trying to figure out a way to phrase _“I want to kiss you but we’re best friends and I don’t know if you want me to”._

Ingrid’s breath began to mingle with his own, and she made no move to step back.

Ingrid hotly sighed as she rose to her toes, pulling up herself to erase the distance between the two. Ingrid’s lips gently brushed against Sylvain’s, softly, _finally_ kissing Sylvain.

Turns out Ingrid’s lip gloss _was_ indeed flavored. Cherry, in fact. 

Sylvain’s mind becomes consumed by Ingrid. The smell of her floral perfume overwhelms his senses, the softness of her lips catching him off guard. Ingrid, so hardened and strong from seasons of playing lacrosse and training at the gym, is tender and gentle in his arms. 

Sylvain pulls Ingrid closely, parting his lips to grant her prodding tongue access. Sylvain’s hands begin their grand exploration, slipping from her face down to her shoulders, skimming the outline of her side until reaching her hips. His hands plant firmly, thumbs gently caressing over Ingrid’s strong hips. Ingrid’s sigh at his touch reverberates through what seems his entire being, her hands slipping into his hair. 

Sylvain wants to spend an eternity like this. 

Ingrid finally breaks the embrace, finally stepping down to her normal height, breathless. Sylvain allowed her to step down, hands still firmly on her hips. 

“Well.” Sylvain said simply, his cheeks burning. 

“Well.” Ingrid replied, her countenance flushed. 

“As much as I don’t want to stop doing this,” Sylvain begins, thumbs still strumming across her hip bones mindlessly, “I _did_ drive all that way to get you barbeque for dinner.”

“The food isn’t going anywhere.” Ingrid replied, resting her head back against his chest. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” 

Sylvain thanks the Goddess that she can’t see the look of pure shock on his face. Thoughts of _“When? How? For how long?”_ flood his mind. Sylvain opted to hold Ingrid instead of interrogating her, caressing her hair while resting his chin atop her head. 

“Me too.” He muttered into her hair, softly closing his eyes. 

He’ll press her for the details tomorrow. But right now, all Sylvain wants is to enjoy this moment of absolute perfection. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to the Sylgrid fanfic for inspiring me to write this (for Carvain). 
> 
> This was my first fic posted to AO3. Comments welcome. I might follow-up this with a second work with Annette and Felix in the same universe. Thanks for reading!!


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